OK you can come in now....Chorlton gets its first proper municipal Library

Opening the library in 1914

I say first proper municipal library because we had had a few private ones and a temporary one but this building opened in November 1914 was a proper first.

It arrived after the promise made to the people of south Manchester that  in return for voting to join the city in 1904, the Corporation would provide purpose built libraries.*

But they were a little slow in coming.

The library in the 1920s

In the case of Chorlton the first library was opened in 1908 in a rented house on Oswald Road and it would be another six years before a purpose built library was opened on Manchester Road.

It was “furnished with a thousand carefully selected volumes for use in the library and home reading,.............. a good selection of magazines is placed in a separate reading room [and] a special feature of the new library is the provision of a room for meetings of Home Reading Union circles and similar organisations.”

The library in 2012

The Manchester Guardian reported “the style is Classical with Ionic columns in Portland stone and had 7,420 books, [which] if necessary can be increased to 10,500 volumes. There is a general reading room for adults and one for juveniles."

In an age which has seen libraries add computers to the resources available to the user it is perhaps surprising that the Lord Mayor in opening the library nearly 100 years ago.

It was one of those funded by Andrew Carnegie but more of him elsewhere on the blog.

Pictures; the opening from the Manchester Courier, November 5 1914, courtesy of Sally Dervan, the library in the 1920s from the Lloyd collection and the entrance today from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Chorlton's libraries, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Chorlton%27s%20libraries

A sightseeing trip to Woolwich and those old wooden prison hulks with their chained convicts

Now I had completely forgotten about those old 18th century prison hulks moored at Woolwich and also of the excellent little book by Mr Reg Rigden*

The Floating Prisons of Woolwich and Deptford, describes in detail those three festering and rotting former warships.  I long ago lost my copy and so was over the moon when my friend Jean sent me her copy.

They were one of those short term measures used to solve the prison crisis in between sending convicts to America and later Australia.

And as so often happens they became tourist attractions with enterprising businessmen offering up river tours which provided glimpses of the chained men in the hulks or at work on the nearby shore.

So numerous did these excursions become that eventually they had to be ordered to stop.

I suppose it is easy to see why so many found such river trips a fascinating part of any visit to London.

“By 1777 there were over 220 felons at work in Woolwich, each chained by the leg.”*

Nor did the resumption of transporting convicted criminals across the world in 1787 spell the end of our prison hulks.

They had become part of the prison system and would continue well into the middle of the 19th century with the last Woolwich ship being burned in 1857.

There had been three such ships moored at Woolwich.

These were the Warrior, Jusitia and Defence which originally under "contract to a private individual, Duncan Campbell who looked after the convicts and was paid by the Government”* who in the 1780s had paid £32 a year for each convict which was later reduced to £26.

All of which promises more stories focusing on the awful conditions on board and some tales of desperate escapes.

So more later, alternatively you could just read Mr Rigden’s excellent book

Picture; cover from The Floating Prisons of Woolwich and Deptford

*The Floating Prisons of Woolwich and Deptford, Reg Rigden, 1976 London Borough of Greenwich

The forgotten story ………. a little bit of squatter history in Alexandra Park

Now the story of how the military buildings in Alexandra Park were taken over by squatters in 1946 has faded from memory.

The squatter movement was a direct response to the shortage of accommodation after the war much of which was because of war damage but also because some properties had been deliberately left unoccupied by their owners.

The campaign was nationwide and in London was co-ordinated by the Communist Party.

Here in Manchester the first successful squat was at “the gun site near Alexandra Park which housed one family at 8 p.m., but by the following day contained a community of over 20 families and all available huts were occupied.  

Among the first to arrive was Mr. E. Brent, a Dunkirk veteran and survivor of the sinking of the Lancastrian.  

Like Mr Herbert Pendleton, who was first on the field he had brought his wife and child from lodgings and was delighted to be in a place of his own.”*

Within a day the occupants "were visited by a butcher and a milkman and while conditions were primitive and the buildings lacked electricity” two huts have running water, one even boasts a bath and for the others there is a tap in the grounds.”

By the following week the occupants had elected a committee to look after the interests of community and collect money against future demands for rates and other charges, preparation were being made to bring in electricity and just eleven days after the squat began the residents were paying the Corporation rent.

For Mrs S. Middleton this amounted “to eight shillings a week for the hut where she lives with her husband now a clerk and their six year-old daughter, Jean.”**

In the great sweep of the park’s history the story of Mr and Mrs Middleton, and the Brent and Pendleton families may not amount to much, but they remain a forgotten episode which may now provoke a series of memories about that event.

And that would be something given that to date all we have are four newspaper reports and three pictures of a family and their home.


Pictures; outside one of the homes, 1946, Walters, m07247, inside the home, 1946, Walters, m07249 and m07248, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

*A Sergeant Major ‘scares’ Salford Squatters, Manchester Guardian, August 17, 1946

** Another Squatters ‘ Victory', Manchester Guardian, August 28, 1946

Fair sits the day for a walk through Chorlton's past at 2pm today*

There is still time to get your tickets for this history walk through our collective past.

The Narnia Lampost, 2024

It's a stroll down Beech Road which will reveal what life was like in a small rural community on the edge of Manchester during the early 19th century, and on the way we will  discover that essential piece of advice of just who did you have to be polite too?

Meet at the top of Beech Road at the junction with Barlow Moor Road at 2pm and join us for the walk via the Rec, the old village green and on to the Edge Theatre.

Chorlton Book Festival, 2026

And in between there will be the stories of the people, and the interesting, the bizarre, and more than a few silly events, and of course plenty of sound history.

Tickets are still available from https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/walking-down-beech-road-in-the-summer-of-1848-tickets-1996447382865?aff=odcleoeventsincollection

And for just £11 not only will all this local history be revealed but at the Edge there will be a bevy of light refreshments in that historic building.

So today at 2 pm, from Beech Road at the junction with Barlow Moor Road, for an hour and a bit.

This event is part of Chorlton Book Festival**

Pictures; The Narnia Lamp post, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*And for the curious the title is nicked from "Fair sits the wind for France"  which is the opening line from the 1606 poem "The Battle of Agincourt" by Michael Drayton and a nod to H.E.Bates and his 1944 novel "Fair Stood the Wind for France". 

 ** Chorlton Book Festival, September 17th to September 26th   https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/cc/chorlton-book-festival-2026-4861494/

Walking Chorlton's past .... that popular history talk with Andrew Simpson .... tomorrow

 This Sunday you can walk our past with Andrew Simpson and discover just who you might have to be polite to.

Ploughing beside Beech Road, circa 1892

Now that is not so daft a question if you lived in a small rural community on the edge of Manchester in the summer of 1848.

For a start, most people earned their living from the land, and many of these would be agricultural labourers, who worked for local farmers and in some cases rented their homes from those same farmers.

Along with these there was a sizable group of small market gardeners, growing cash crops for the Manchester markets on one to nine acres of land which they rented from a handful of landowners.

Charles Clarke blacksmith, 1913

Added to these were the tradesmen ranging from the blacksmith and wheelwright to shopkeepers, carpenters and dressmakers all of whom were dependent on both the farmers and the “people of plenty”.

And even some of the more prosperous, who after 1832 commanded a vote in General Elections, might think carefully about voting for an election candidate who was not the preferred and stated choice of the wealthy and powerful Egerton family who owned something like 67% of all the land in Chorlton.

So, the question of who you should be polite to in 1848 was a serious one which might cost your livelihood and your home.

And that will be the theme of this walk through Chorlton’s past which is part of Chorlton Book Festival, . *

Along the way there will be some tales of dark deeds, mixed with the everyday life of farmers, agricultural workers and their families, and a nod to the posh residents who must be treated with upmost politeness.

We were a small rural community of just 761 people, spread out in a number of hamlets. 

On the northern boundary was Martledge, south of Chorlton Brook was Hardy and at the centre was Chorlton itself.

St Clements by the green circa 1870s

Smaller communities in some cases just a few houses were scattered in between.  And as if to underline a dependence on the land, each of these small communities were separated by fields and orchards.

And so today we will take a walk down Chorlton Row, from Barlow Moore Lane, stopping to look at the big house, several cottages, some interesting fields and of course the smithy, the Wesleyan chapel and a beer house.

Along the way we may encounter a few people it would be prudent to be polite too, and plenty who are too busy to pass the time of day.

Having reached Chorlton Green there will be a brief stop to survey the old church, the two pubs, and three farmhouses, along with assorted wattle and daub cottages, and the village school.

Mr. Higginbotham bringing in  the harvest from the Meadows, undated

After which we will head north, visiting another 18th century farm cottage before crossing the Rough Leech Gutter at High Lane, hard by Scotch Corner and that local beauty point known as Pits Brow,  finishing at the site of the ancient Ash Tree “at the foot of which a certain man engaged in prayer each day".**

So, there will be plenty to see, and much that will tell us about what it was like to live in a small rural community, just 3½ miles from the smoke, noise and enterprise of Manchester.

Assemble at the corner of Beech Road and Barlow Moor Road at 2pm on Sunday September 20th.***

The walk will conclude after much history and a degree of fun at the Edge for refreshments.

Pictures; ploughing on Beech Road, circa 1890, and harvesting on the meadows, courtesy of Mr. Higginbotham, from the Lloyd collection, and detail from the 1854 OS map for Lancashire by kind permission of Digital Archives Association, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/ old St Clement’s Church circa 1870s from the collection of Tony Walker

*Chorlton Book Festival, September 17th to September 26th   https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/cc/chorlton-book-festival-2026-4861494/

**Ellwood, Thomas Chapter 4, History of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, South Manchester Gazette, November 28, 1885

*** Walking Chorlton’s Past, Sunday September 20th. 

Tickets are £11  include refreshments at the Edge Theatre cafe afterwards.

Tickets available from https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/walking-down-beech-road-in-the-summer-of-1848-tickets-1996447382865?aff=odcleoeventsincollection

One hundred years of one house in Chorlton …. part 162 …. endings

The continuing story  of the house Joe and Mary Ann Scott lived in for over 50 years and the families that have lived here since.*

Long before a distinguished historian chose to tell the story of a house and made it into a popular TV show, I embarked on the same historical journey.

Mine was located on Beech Road and what started in the December of 2011 was joined by two spin offs based on the houses I lived in London and a municipal flat in the Italian city of Varese.

And in time sat beside the story of a garage which began as Chorlton’s first cinema, another building which over three centuries had many different stories and even morphed into a series on the Nokia 3310 and our own Citroën 2CV bought brand new and the last to roll off a production line in Portugal.

What each had in common was that the house, the garage, and the car were just vehicles to tell the bigger story, which showed the transformation of Chorlton and Britain over time.

But was always the house opposite the Rec which I kept coming back to.  It was built by Joe Scott in 1915 who built many of the smaller houses and semis in Chorlton.  And it was here that he and his wife Mary Ann lived for the next 58 years.  In all it has had four owners of which we are the only ones to have had children born here.

I first washed up in the house for a brief stay in 1976 when it was owned by my dear friends, John, Mike and Lois, returning just a few years later when I bought it.

I can’t beat Joe and Mary Ann’s tenure, but I have called it home for fifty years, and even during my short break away it was always home.

To which there are many others over the years who can also have a claim to have passed through, from friends, and family to the childhood mates of my sons some of whom still speak fondly of their time here.

I opened the series in reflective mood asking "Why is it that only the rich and more especially the old, landed rich can talk of holding a great house or estate for posterity?

They tell us as if we should be grateful that they are custodians, not owners and it is their duty to maintain it and hand it on to the next generation. All of which is fine, but theirs is always the family that holds onto it and raises the question of what about the rest of us? Do we not also do the same?

Some might argue that there is no comparison between Blenheim Palace, and a 1930 semi built on the outer reaches of Manchester. Or that a post war council house has anything in common with one of the country’s national treasures. 

Such a grand place with its Adam furniture, Capability Brown landscaped gardens, priceless paintings, steeped in history is unique and therefore ranks well beyond the mass produced, often ugly and in some cases poorly maintained social housing.

But both have histories, both were built for someone to live in, and both were cherished by their inhabitants.

This is a roundabout way of writing about our house. It was built a hundred years ago, has had only four custodians, of which we are the only ones to have had children here. 

More than that this is the only home our eldest three have known and it was where one of them was born. It is also a place where countless friends have come and stayed before moving on, seen Christmas parties, a boat turning event in the back garden, and a succession of decorating fashions.

So, over the next few months I want to tell the story of this one house set against the bigger picture of what was going on here in Chorlton and the national backdrop".

The stories were meant to only last a few months but have run to over 160 stories, and far out ran the one hundred years of the title.

They often picked up on bits found in the house, from fuse boxes, the old copper in the cellar and the mystery of why the Scott’s never installed a kitchen range.  

Most then became an exploration of the changes in our social, economic and political life set against two world wars and that post-war affluence.

During that time, I came close to Joe and Mary Ann and some of the objects.

These included a broken clay pipe found in the garden and maybe dating from the 1840s, and remanets of electrical fixtures.

But things come to an end and my family’s stewardship is no different and so to mangle that wonderful final message from the dolphins in Douglas Adam’s Hitchhiker series of books “So Long and Thanks for all the stories ….. and the memories …. and all the friends”. 

Bettered perhaps only by "There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story." — Frank Herbert

Location, Beech Road

Pictures; random pictures from the collection of Andrew Simpson and friends

*The story of a house, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search?q=the+story+of+a+house

*So long and Thanks for all the Fish, the fourth book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe, Douglas Adams, 1984

In search of an adventure out of Peckham ............. foot tunnels and a strange find

Now the thing about adventures is that there should be no rules, no preplanning and just an optimistic expectation that it will all turn out alright and along the way you will have some fun.

Woolwich Foot Tunnel, 1916

That said it is always best to go with someone to share the fun and when you are just ten years old it makes for a bit more safety.

After that it’s all pretty much how it turns out.

And the day we found the foot tunnel was just one of those. Now I know there are two, starting with the one at Greenwich which was finished in 1902 and the Woolwich one completed a decade later.

But it would be years before I came across Woolwich and anyway Greenwich had so much else to offer, which is how we had come across  the tunnel in the first place.

It had started with the usual exploration of the big park starting with the views from General Wolf’s statute across London and the debate about whether to take the windy path beside the Observatory or  just run down the steep hill.

That done it was a short hop and a skip to the Cutty Sark.

But the Cutty Sark cost to get in and so as you do we wandered to the river and there was the entrance to the tunnel.

None of us knew what to expect, but it was open, it was free and that spiral staircase was just an invitation not to be turned down.

Today at 73 I doubt that I would have set off along the white tiled tunnel but 63 years ago here was the adventure.

Looking down to the foot tunnel, 1977

We were not sure where it would take us, or  how long it would take but there was something quite compelling about making the journey.

It was partly the way the tunnel stretched off into the distance with no end in sight, with just the long line of lights in the ceiling and the gentle incline of the pathway which slopped ever downwards.

On that first foray we encountered just one person, whose footsteps we heard heading towards us long before we saw them.

But we did find a toy duelling pistol.  It had lost some of the bits to make it work and its plastic butt was only half intact but here was a prize which could not be ignored.

So it came home with us.

Who carried it on that long walk back from the park through Deptford and past New Cross Gate I can’t remember, or for that matter why it finished up in Lausanne Road, where it stayed as a trophy of that adventure.

I wish I still had it but it went when we left Peckham along with those adventures.

Picture; Woolwich Foot Tunnel circa 1916, courtesy of Kristina Bedford from  Woolwich Through Time, Kristina Bedford, 2014, Amberley Publishing, and Looking down to the foot tunnel, Greenwich 1977 from the collection of Jean Gammons